


I have loved the stars too fondly

by Aaskada



Series: a string of barely coherent vignettes [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Genre: Drug Withdrawal, M/M, Mandalorian Competency Kink, Non-Linear Narrative?, Qui-Gon is somewhere else while Obi-Wan handles everything, Tense swaps, and it's unpleasant side effects, because I just had to make this difficult for myself, it's being described as fairly mild but it's a big dose, just like in Jedi Apprentice, not sure how graphic the violence really is but there sure will be a lot of it, on that note, pada!wan has no mercy for slavers, slavery and the aftermath thereof, some timeline squishing, spice (the drug) used as a weapon, this is pre-relationship and established relationship at the same time, ymmv on that one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:01:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27927169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaskada/pseuds/Aaskada
Summary: At twenty years old Obi-Wan marries a Mandalorian during a slavery investigation. At thirty seven he reunites with his husband who has been missing for twelve years.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: a string of barely coherent vignettes [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987279
Comments: 146
Kudos: 926





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the beginning of one of the many bunnies I have been enabled to write

**Past:**

Finding himself facing down two dozen angry slavers while Qui-Gon was absent was more familiar to Obi-Wan than most of his friends approved of. It wasn't the first time newly freed slaves took the opportunity to attack the slavers while he did it either. This, however, was the first time he'd ever had help from a former slave who was clearly Mandalorian—he recognized that unarmed combat style after a year of running away from people trying to kill him with it. Usually anyone that skilled in close combat wasn't worth the effort of catching to slavers, let alone the odd decision to keep him in only a collar instead of the exploding chips that were much more popular with those who could afford it. Anyone who could afford a trained Mandalorian should be more than capable of affording one of those. Not that he'd wish it on the man.

It didn't take the Mandalorian long to divest several slavers of their weapons, but he only kept a vibroblade which he used to devastating effect. In the time it took Obi-Wan to avoid being killed by the wookie, he'd put the knife through half a dozen throats and a kidney. It's a lucky swing, in the end, that takes the wookie out of the fight by slicing him hip to shoulder in a move that made Obi-Wan's arms ache. The rest of them were easy to clean up. A dozen slavers would be doable himself, but with the additional help of his new companion they have the warehouse cleared out in a few minutes.

Releasing the slaves would be a problem all its own. Going by what he's seen so far none of them have subdermal chips, but he could hardly leave them behind on Nar Shaddaa in good conscience. Part of his problem was that the shuttle used by Master Qui-Gon and himself was only big enough to fit perhaps a couple more passengers and not the half-hundred beings who narrowly avoided being sold at auction.

Quinlan's slice stick went into a holopad that survived the fight and he set it aside to come back to later.

"What's a Jetii'ad doing in Hutt Space?" the Mandalorian asked.

Obi-Wan felt a shiver go down his spine at the gravelly voice, but firmly tamped it down. This was an awful time for inappropriate attraction. And for a very recently freed slave, too. A few moments of wracking his brain for the Mando'a he picked up years ago while guarding Satine finally dredged up the memory of being called _Jetii'ad_ before. It's what they called padawans unless he was severely misremembering. Despite knowing that any Mandalorian speaking Mando'a probably didn't have anything good to say about the Order, Obi-Wan just cocked his head toward the man. He seemed wary, but not hostile.

"Officially I am currently investigating a lead on a missing Senate delegation," Obi-Wan said.

"And unofficially hunting slavers?" He didn't sound disapproving, but Obi-Wan has never known anyone to sound that neutral when they weren't making internal judgements and waiting to see how deep you dug yourself in. "Last I heard the baby Jetii don't go out alone."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes. He was probably radiating exasperation in the force strong enough for a null to pick up, but he projected harder to get the point across.

"I'm hardly a child—" He turned sharply to face the Mandalorian and gave a shallow and mocking bow. "—Obi-Wan Kenobi, senior Jedi padawan."

"Jango Fett."

**Present:**

Obi-Wan catches the edge of beskar'gam withdrawing over the roof as Zam Wesell's human disguise melts away. All he sees to identify the Mandalorian by is the stripes of blue around the visor and it's genuine beskar by the way it muddies his attempts at tracking. Trying to follow will do no good, so he turns his attention back to the body at their feet. He considers pulling the dart, but even as it crosses his mind he knows the council won't assign him to chase the beroya, not when he's married to the Mand'alor. With a sigh he calls the temple instead.

"This is Knight Kenobi, we need a shadow at our coordinates. There's been an attempt on Senator Amidala's life." As soon as the call is over he glances over at Anakin. "You should get back to the Senator's apartment. There's unlikely to be another attempt so soon, but we shouldn't get complacent."

Anakin hesitates. "Will you be alright alone?"

"I won't be alone long." Obi-Wan smiles and pats Anakin's shoulder. "Now, the senator has found herself missing a window. You should check in with Captain Panaka and ensure they have the apartment secured."

Even with the reassurance Anakin wavers, eyes drifting down to the dead bounty hunter.

"I wasn't the target, Anakin."

He flinches but it gets him moving. Just as well, they made it quite far from the senatorial apartments in not very much time. The speeder that drifts to a stop next to him ten minutes later is one of the MediCorps shuttles used for transporting critical patients. Their passenger won't be going to the halls of healing or a hospital this time. Quinlan hops out of the passenger side seat and saunters over to peer at the corpse, Aayla trailing along behind.

"So, why are you handing this over to the shadows?" he asks. "You've handled these investigations before."

"She was shot by another bounty hunter." Obi-Wan gestures up to the roof where the Mandalorian had been. "Mandalorian, genuine beskar. I didn't see much of his paint, but...."

Obi-Wan shrugs and Quinlan just nods. If Obi-Wan investigates knowing there is a Mandalorian involved the council would be furious. While few of them disapproved of Obi-Wan's marriage openly, he couldn't deny that it complicates his missions occasionally. If he hands over a case to Judicial that gets thrown out because of his connections a dangerous criminal could walk free, so he is careful to hand over missions that seem to be heading into Mandalorian territory. Quinlan frequently picks these cases up for him, often enough that the council knows that when Obi-Wan calls for a shadow there is a Mandalorian involved somehow. Quinlan and Aayla both are passably fluent in Mando'a, though their aversion to sleeves would keep them from ever being able to pass as Mandalorian themselves.

"We've got this from here," Quinlan says as he crouches down and lays a single finger on the poison dart. "Go make sure your padawan doesn't embarrass himself too much in front of the senator."

"Should I tell him you said that?" Obi-Wan laughs.

"Absolutely."

Normally Quinlan would smirk at him then, but he's completely absorbed in whatever vision the dart is giving him. With a wave to Aayla he orients himself and takes off back to the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we will see how long it is before the other bunnies come for me again

**Past:**

The missing Senate delegation was not among the slaves in the warehouse. Nor the next warehouse, or the one after that. At nearly two hundred freed slaves Obi-Wan stopped and admitted, at least to himself, that attacking every auction house on Nar Shaddaa would only end poorly for him one way or another—even with Jango's help.

Apparently the man had no pressing goals beyond an intention to retrieve his armor from the governor of Galidraan, or none that he wasn't willing to put off in favor of killing slavers. It took Obi-Wan a few minutes to place why the name was so familiar. He'd been very distracted that year between his reassignment, trying to help the Young, and the temple bombings and barely had the energy to spare toward what else was going wrong in the galaxy. With the Stark Hyperspace War following immediately behind he'd have never heard about Galidraan at all if Master Qui-Gon's own master hadn't been the one to lead the strike force. He suspected it would be best not to inform Jango of that connection. He couldn't honestly claim to know Master Dooku personally anyway.

Beside, the backup was appreciated when he had no idea where Master Qui-Gon had gotten to since their arrival. Off looking for information somewhere presumably. His embarrassingly physical appreciation of Jango's competence was just an unfortunate detail that he was going to have to live with.

"Don't Jetiise sleep?" Jango groused. "It's been twelve hours."

Obi-Wan hummed in acknowledgement and consulted the force. They wouldn't lose ground by stopping for a rest, but the idea of going back to the shuttle made him shudder. He took off toward the closest place that felt marginally safe instead. The force led him to a ramshackle apartment in the lower levels belonging to an escaped slave with a spare sleep mat. She had a subdermal chip that would go off if she left Nar Shaddaa, she explained, but it didn't have a manual trigger so she did her best to help others leave. The chip was in her lower back, far enough from her spine that a med-droid could remove it without too much risk. In exchange for that information she was more than willing to let them use her spare mat for as long as they needed it.

There is hardly space for one in the apartment let alone three so Obi-Wan popped a dental tablet in his mouth and bit down, letting the bitter taste coat his tongue with barely a grimace before taking a mouthful of water from his canteen and swishing it around. The taste lingered after spitting it out in the tiny sink, but he didn't trust the water line and didn't want to use up his canteen either. Jango took a tablet as well when he offered. After maneuvering around each other in the bathroom for minimal injury and embarrassment they eventually settle on the sleep mat, which is barely big enough to fit the both of them. While not overly tall for a male presenting human Obi-Wan was taller than the average slave and Jango seemed broad enough for two now that they had to share the small space.

**Present:**

Although there have been no further attempts on the senator's life she has given in to Captain Panaka and her handmaidens' concerns and agreed to return to Naboo. The broken windows are part of that, Obi-Wan is sure; Padmé Amidala has been impressively practical about the danger she put her life and those of her protectors in since they first met. For the night she sleeps with her handmaidens while Obi-Wan and Anakin nap on the couches.

The next morning Quinlan stops by with a bag for him and Anakin each and an update.

"I've got a lead to follow up. The dart's an interesting one—I was able to get coordinates off it, but there isn't a planet there in the archives. Master Nu was furious at the suggestion that the archives are incomplete. Not as much as she was at the suggestion someone deleted entries, though."

Obi-Wan's eyebrows feel like they've jumped high enough to meet his hairline. Just the thought of crossing Master Nu has the temple in a cold sweat, for someone to actually have violated the integrity of the archives isn't something he cares to contemplate. Recovering lost records is not an easy task. Even without getting into the connection to the assassination attempt that's no wrong to be committed by the faint of heart. He also wonders what the connection actually is between the two occurrences or if it is mere coincidence.

"The other bounty hunter—" Quinlan cuts himself off with a head shake. "No, I'll tell you when I know for sure."

"I'm sure you already know we're leaving for Naboo." Quinlan nods. "Stay safe, Quin. Don't get Aayla in too much trouble with the council, she's still a new knight."

"Hey! No one gets in as much trouble as you, Kenobi. I'll be sure to pass around your farewells."

"Please don't."

Quinlan just ignores him and disappears back out of the apartment. Half an hour later a Senate shuttle just large enough for their entire party is waiting at the building's upper level public speeder dock. Sent by the chancellor to ensure Naboo's senator makes it safely and quickly to her transport according to the driver. At least politicians could be occasionally useful. Even if she no longer used the royal yacht, Naboo's queen provided Senator Amidala with a ship from the royal hangar out of respect. Queen Jamillia, Obi-Wan thinks is the current ruler. It isn't the same model as the one they used to run the Trade Federation blockade, but like most Nabooan ships it's sleek lines and efficiency.

Twelve years ago he went to Naboo because his duty demanded it even as he worried about Jango's disappearance. During his husband's last comm they talked about a contract on a fallen Jedi who had been at Galidraan and Obi-Wan still knows nothing about what happened to him. He's alive—as far as Obi-Wan can tell with how Jango sloughs off any touch of the force—but next thing Obi-Wan knew he was responsible for a child and neither he nor Jango could forgive a failure of that responsibility. Jango isn't the only Mandalorian to go missing since then either. Most of them are Haat Mando'ade commandos, but at least two are prominent members of Death Watch. If there's any pattern to it neither he nor Quinlan has figured it out yet.


	3. Chapter 3

**Past:**

Obi-Wan woke up pressed against Jango's back. It took a minute for situational awareness to kick in, but once it did he found his own back was up against the wall too tightly to get up without waking Jango. He was sleeping soundly and—with no way to know how well Jango managed to sleep at any point in the last eight years—Obi-Wan didn't want to wake him. After a stretch of awkward eternity he settled into meditation to pass the time.

Jango was a bright spot on Nar Shaddaa even with the creeping grief and rage. In the next room their host stirred and woke and farther away he could sense Master Qui-Gon in the upper levels, not in any trouble or distress that Obi-Wan could feel. The force nudged his attention toward a large open area an hour's walk away—a slave market going by the distribution of lifeforms and suffering. Whether he would find the delegation there the force didn't say, but it definitely encouraged him in that direction. Then his attention drifted back to his physical body and he blinked his eyes open again. Jango leaned over him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Always sleep so deep?"

Obi-Wan blinked as he parsed in the missing words.

"I wasn't sleeping. There's a market an hour from here, that's where I need to go."

Jango sat back on his heels and stared. The doubtful look was entirely unnecessary. Deciding to ignore Jango for the time being he stretched and sat up, pulling his belt and saber to him while he straightened his robes. When he looked up Jango was still staring, but with the face of inscrutable judgement again. He let them drop into his lap. Extensive use of telekinesis in battle was relatively rare among the Order, but maybe one of the knights at Galidraan used it. Maybe he was just one of those people who got uncomfortable about the force.

Upon hearing where he meant to go next their host gave him a pinched look. She didn't object, though, only warned him that market was directly controlled by Kleghoa the Hutt who often kept watch in person. The Hutt's personal guards would be there as well as the mercenaries guarding the slaves. It would be a much bigger and better armed group than any they faced the day before. Not unexpected news, though aggravating. She also offered to share her meager food supplies, but Obi-Wan refused, taking out ration bars for himself and Jango and refilling his canteen from her filtered water. The ration bars are dry and tasteless so he has to refill his canteen again after they eat. Afterward they said their farewells and headed out.

**Present:**

The Naberrie estate in the lake district of Naboo is idyllic. Tame in a way only millennia of habitation can make a place, with beautiful weather and rolling hills. And Anakin making bantha eyes at Senator Amidala when he thinks Obi-Wan isn't paying attention. Through the twelve years of Anakin's padawanship he has been many things, but subtle has never been one. The senator—Padmé, she's asked him to call her—is both flattered and baffled by Anakin's clumsy flirting. She keeps glancing at him whenever Anakin flirts with her, but he can feel in the force it isn't because she is attracted to him. Probably his presence reminds her that Anakin is a Jedi.

After a week she finds him in the early morning before Anakin drags himself out of bed.

"I know Jedi don't approve of relationships and I want to assure you—"

Obi-Wan snorts and she fumbles to a halt and blinks at him. He prays to the force for patience.

"That's certainly what Anakin believes. He does have quite the habit of not listening when he thinks he already understands something."

"But there is a rule of non-attachment, isn't there?"

"Tell me, Padmé, as a leader and representative of your people would you ever consider it acceptable to put one person above your duty?"

"Of course not!"

"And the Jedi, who have a power to bend the world and people around us, who have sworn oaths to the Order and the Republic, should not hold ourselves to the same standards?"

Padmé considers that, looking out over the balcony where the sun is starting to rise. This is the part that Obi-Wan never gets Anakin to pay attention to. Anakin who is Freed now—has been for twelve years, but still swings between believing that he can have anything he wants and disbelief that he can have anything at all—Obi-Wan is reluctant to refuse him the things he wants most. Too reluctant, he is told.

"Those who feel their future is not with the Jedi are free to leave and those whose path brings them back are welcomed, but the life of a Jedi is not for everyone; we have too much responsibility resting on us to allow our judgement to be compromised by sentiment. Many in the Order feel that long term romantic relationships put us at greater risk of compromised judgement and so they are discouraged."

"Only discouraged?"

"The Altisian Jedi broke away from the Order altogether over the matter, but the Green Jedi also openly allow marriages and had one of their masters on the high council about forty years ago. Master Ki-Adi-Mundi sits on the high council right now and has five wives."

"Five—?"

"He's Cerean," he clarifies with a shrug. "When he was given up to the temple it was with the understanding that he would do his duty to his people as well. His relationships with his wives is not solely one of duty just because his duty required them of him, though. To my knowledge his conduct has never garnered censure."

"So..."

"Anakin may pursue a relationship if he wants," Obi-Wan confirms for her, "but given his difficulty in processing his own feelings productively I suspect he would have to make a choice about which path he wants to follow. He might enjoy the life of a housespouse more than he realizes."

He leaves her on the balcony in her nightdress and robe and heads for the kitchen. Sabé is already filling the kettle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> accidentally posted minor spoilers on discord because I forgot this chapter wasn't published yet


	4. Chapter 4

**Past:**

Business on Nar Shaddaa was unconcerned with day cycles, the market was in fully swing as always when they got to it even halfway through the moon's artificial night. The crowds were thick enough to get stuck in, but too thin to lose a follower. On top of the mercenaries the slavers would all be armed as well. Obi-Wan has his saber and Jango the stolen vibroblade, but that was all the weapons they had between them. Taking stock he noted Jango cleaned up best he could in the sink, but he was still dressed in the thin slave's clothes and stolen boots slightly too big and laced too tight to make up for it. Even as well as he fought earlier Obi-Wan saw the fine tremors of a rough withdrawal already creeping in. If they get in an open fight it would take almost nothing for them to get overwhelmed or for someone to get in a lucky shot.

"We need to deal with as many of them as possible before they notice," he told Jango. "And I need another weapon."

Jango's eyes shifted down to his saber hanging off his belt then back up. He raised his eyebrows.

"Lightsabers glow. And they make noise. It isn't exactly subtle."

With a shrug Jango glanced over the crowd before stalking through the shadows to whichever target he picked. Obi-Wan can't see it very well in the gloom at the edges of the lower levels, but he could feel the life snuff out in the the force. A minute of rummaging later Jango offers him another vibroblade with a sheath he could strap to his thigh. He takes it instead of complaining about its origin, testing the blade's balance and doing his best to ensure it won't slip from where he put it on. When he was satisfied he looked back up to find Jango watching him again with the same intense observation Obi-Wan has been subject to since they met. Even with the force getting some impression of what he thought was nearly impossible.

"Thank you. I'll go one way and you go the other and we see how many we deal with before someone raises an alarm?"

Jango gave him a jerky nod. "Don't get caught too fast."

"I know how to hide bodies," he huffed and pulled the force around himself to make his presence fade into the background.

Before Jango could respond he slunk across the brighter light of the walkway to circle back the opposite direction of Jango's chosen victim. A quick series of stabs took down three slavers chatting behind some crates where it was dim enough to be hard to see. Reaching out with the force showed him the others near by and the optimal order to kill them in. With quiet steps silenced by the force Obi-Wan snuck up on his next target and jammed the vibroblade through the base of their skull.

**Present:**

Anakin wakes up from another nightmare that morning. As with all his nightmares lately he insists it's a vision, that his mother is in danger, but Obi-Wan can't feel any difference in his force presence to indicate he is receiving anything at all. He feels the same as he has for years, blinding and loud with hints of darkness. Even taking extra care to stay aware of Anakin while he sleeps he notices nothing but the roiling darkness of terror and rage Anakin feels while dreaming about the attack on his mother. They began shortly after they were assigned to guard Padmé, before the first attack. Obi-Wan doesn't want to dismiss Anakin's concerns, but he has always been very strongly rooted in the living force. Strength in the force alone does not cause visions. Another thing Anakin never quite manages to understand—that brute force cannot make up for talent or training.

Padmé seems rather concerned about the whole thing, inclined enough to hare off to Tattooine despite the bounty on her head that Obi-Wan is considering going along so they'll at least be supervised. He'd thought Padmé a bit more sensible than that, but in hindsight he remembers this wouldn't be the first time she went wandering around Tattooine while there was a bounty on her.

The force is opaque on the subject. Whatever might happen is not for him to know in advance and so his bad feeling is personal reservations rather than prescience. While Obi-Wan is aware the council will be very displeased, he eventually decides that proving to Anakin that dreams are not visions no matter how real they feel is worth censure for taking him to see his mother. In the event that this helps him separate his personal fears from the force's urgings it will be worth it. The arrangements don't take long—Sabé isn't happy to be left behind, but agrees to play decoy anyway so long as they keep contact and there's little else to prepare. A very complete medkit and a med-droid are placed on a small shuttle—non-descript so far as Nabooan ships go—and an R2 model astrodroid bullies its way on as well, refusing to acknowledge Obi-Wan when he insists he is more than capable of handling their flight plan. Padmé seems fond of the droid at least, so he doesn't protest much.

Tattooine is blisteringly hot and blindingly bright as he remembers. Last time he mostly waited in the ship, but now he follows them into the market, leaving R2D2 and MR-G6 to guard the ship. R2, at least, seems more than willing to do so. It demonstrates its electric prod when Obi-Wan asks and that will probably be good enough unless they get in trouble with the local Hutt. Even twelve years since leaving the planet Anakin remembers the way to Watto's junkshop. Obi-Wan opts to wait outside while Anakin and Padmé go in to talk to the proprietor about Shmi. It's midmorning in Mos Espa and most of the locals have already done their shopping for the day, spending the rest of the day in the shade as best they can and leaving the market to the spacers. The shop and junkyard behind it are far enough out that there is even less traffic than the alleys creeping out from the main thoroughfare that connects the sand-blasted landing platforms that pass as a port to the arena and the fortress used as Jabba the Hutt's palace. Today is particularly quiet as far as he can tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MR-G6 is a **M** edical **R** esponse droid, which is more thought than LucasArts put into naming pretty much any model of droid afaik


	5. Chapter 5

**Past:**

Obi-Wan made it through nearly forty slavers and miscellaneous guards before he found abruptly that he took the side of the market Kleghoa the Hutt held court in. Surrounded by cages of slaves and animals there was a massive platform that served as his throne with at least a dozen guards who looked much more competent than the ones he dealt with so far. The half-circle of scaffolding behind them has heavy crates on it stacked perilously high. Spice, probably. If he could knock some down the spice inside would do most of the incapacitation on those who didn't get hit by the falling crates in the first place, but he wasn't so sure he could do it without harming the beings caged nearby for the Hutt's amusement. Asking the force gave him nothing useful.

With a frown he withdrew farther into the shadows. He gave the area as wide a berth as he could sneaking around to the backside of the scaffolding. The front side—where Kleghoa held court—was blocked from view by a layer of cheap durasteel siding covered with ostentatious tapestries and behind was a dozen more cages with slaves chained inside. Most of them had the stone-faced look of long term slavery, but there was a group huddled in the back whose force presences were sparking with fresh terror and dressed in the more colorful and less practical core world fashions. They must be owned by Kleghoa personally considering their location. He'd have expected them to be more on display like the others and the disparity worried him.

Simply freeing them would cause no problems—so far as the force was concerned simply getting them out of their cages and collars would be good enough—but he wasn't sure the senate aides wouldn't get in the way. Unlike the others they might be too scared to be cautious. And only seven of the twelve were there.

He started with those closest to him. Gladiators, probably, but stripped of armor and weapons. While he didn't have lockpicks Quinlan taught him to open locks of all types whenever they were both in the temple with the force as well. This one is a simple padlock, relying on the thick durasteel to keep the slaves from breaking it—if the shock collars don't stop them from trying at all. The padlock dropped heavily into his hand and with careful application of the force the door swung open silently. The collars required more focus, but came off easy enough. Fortunately it seemed they all had shock collars—Kleghoa intended to keep them alive and that made it easier for him. Slowly he worked his way through all of the cages, stripping the layers of his robes and giving them to a group of Theelin girls who looked too young to be shoved into the revealing dancer's outfits.

After the rest of the group promised to babysit for him, Obi-Wan headed back toward the scaffolding and jumped on top of it. He climbed up the crates until he could look down on Kleghoa and his guards without being seen.

**Present:**

After getting answers from Watto, finally they get the coordinates of a moisture farm near the edge of the Jundland Wastes. The owner is one Cliegg Lars, who apparently bought her freedom and married her six years previously. By all rights this should be the part where he tells Anakin they are done on Tattooine—Shmi's wellbeing is as certain as it can be on such a harsh world—but Anakin won't settle until he's seen her himself and he knows it. So they visit the farm next, touching down close enough for their intentions to be obvious and far enough away not to be alarming. Obi-Wan waves Anakin and Padmé out of the cockpit while he goes through the landing and shutdown procedures. He's only halfway through when he hears the hydraulics of the ramp hiss open. Fifteen minutes later he's satisfied and goes to join them.

He leans against the jamb and watches Anakin clinging to his mother from the shade of the shuttle. Even fairly certain he's unobtrusive she notices him immediately.

"How about you all come in and introduce yourselves."

Shmi offers them each a cup of water—a hospitality gesture, Anakin quietly tells them before Obi-Wan or Padmé can refuse. Cliegg is out checking on their pair of banthas before the day gets hot, but his son from a previous marriage is there with his fiancé. Anakin's older step-brother Owen is nearly a decade older than him, closer to Obi-Wan's age, and Beru is apparently already living with the family. They're kind people and not from Tattooine originally it sounds like. Why they would choose to move to a desolately dry planet under Hutt control Obi-Wan can't imagine, but they're happy enough as moisture farmers.

Padmé she remembers easily enough once the connection is made to the girl who came into Watto's shop with a Jedi, but Obi-Wan is a stranger to her.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lady Shmi, a pleasure to meet you."

"Just Shmi, Master Jedi. I'm no lady."

"Anyone can be a lady if they want." He nods in acceptance, though. "And I'm no master Jedi, only a knight. Call me Obi-Wan, please."

The day speeds by with Anakin fussing over a golden protocol droid he apparently rebuilt from scrap as a child and Obi-Wan and Padmé chatting a bit with the family. Even with the home built mostly underground they retreated to the lower, cooler level once Cliegg returned and the midday heat hit. By the time it cooled enough to go back outside evening is well underway and Shmi offers them latemeal.

"We have food on the ship," Obi-Wan says. "I understand it isn't mere politeness for you, but I would feel terrible making you feed twice as many people because we came without warning."

Padmé is quick to agree with him, though Shmi makes a counteroffer that they return for dessert—kanafeh made fresh from the milk from their banthas. Anakin's pleading look has Obi-Wan laughing and agreeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kanafeh is a middle eastern desert similar to cheesecake. I highly recommend it to anyone who has the means to get/make some!


	6. Chapter 6

**Past:**

From above it looked like the cages might be farther away from Kleghoa's throne than they seemed. Still too close to just drop three crates of spice, but far enough he might be able to get them out and then drop three crates of spice to stop Kleghoa's mercenaries from doing anything about it. Or—the cages were spread out so as not to block the large space where visitors came to talk business. From so high up the seams where the trap door opened up to a pit with some sort of ravenous creature—a rancor, probably, given what sort of habitat could be reasonably constructed on Nar Shaddaa—but he could feel the edges of the mechanisms in the force. Currently there was no audience, just the mercenaries milling around and occasionally poking cruelly through the bars of the cages. The trap door was rather large, if he—

With a flex of mental power the mercenaries shifted their paths, trading locations and walking to the other side of the open area directly across the door. A few minutes of carefully nudging and everyone was in place. The door was big enough for about two thirds of them to be standing on the door when he wrenched the mechanisms apart to drop them into the rancor's lair below. There's panic and chaos among those who didn't fall in that even drags a few of those only standing near the door down, but none of them were willing to go near the door to inspect it and wouldn't find anything if they did. The shouting brought the surviving slavers and mercenaries running, a few of whom found themselves shoved into the hole even without Obi-Wan's help.

They're confused enough to be taking each other out while he carefully levitates a crate of spice high enough and slow enough not to be noticed until it hovered over the crowd and let go. Wood and bone splintered loudly as it landed. The blooming cloud of reddish brown spice exploded out in every direction, dousing the slavers but mostly falling short of the cages around them. A mild mix—mostly pure and not cut with anything stronger by its color—but the dose they just got hit with more than made up for it. It didn't take all that long for them to start stumbling around under the influence, several more of them going straight into the rancor pit.

It's unfortunate but not unexpected that the rest of them are on alert now. Obi-Wan was forced to lean back and rely on the force to tell him what happened below. Among force sensitives in the outer rim who are frequently overlooked by Search there are two common skills: the use of the force to sense the presence and state of lifeforms without seeing them and telekinesis. So long as he continued to avoid using his saber he wouldn't have to worry about retaliation. He let the force lead him down to the ground where a few enterprising mercenaries were circling around to check behind the scaffolding. He put the vibroblade through four throats, before wrenching it out of a Trandoshan's throat took too long to stop the next one from shouting.

Somewhere else in the market he heard another alarm go up.

**Future:**

Obi-Wan is up before anyone else in the morning and takes the chance to meditate while it's still calm. The early morning air before the suns rise is frigid, but it's a minor discomfort. Not to mention he has an insulated flask of hot tea to keep himself warm. He is sitting on the shuttle's ramp watching the stars start to fade when Shmi sticks emerges from the home.

"I didn't expect anyone else to be awake yet!" she says. "Cliegg and Owen need a bit of extra time in the mornings."

"I've always been an early riser," he tells her, leaving out the fact that it had been visions and the knife's edge of danger that made him a light sleeper. "Do you need help with anything?"

She hestitates, looking nervously toward the horizon.

"If it's too rude perhaps I can remind you that we were terribly rude first, coming without warning."

That startles a laugh out of her. Shmi glances toward the horizon, away from Mos Espa. She sighs.

"We have an agreement with the Tuskens, that once a week they get the water from our vaporators and in exchange we got our banthas," she explains. "It's their day to harvest the water, but I'm worried we need the extra now that we have visitors."

"Since we are the reason for your dilemma, I insist that you take some of ours." He raises a hand to stop her from objecting. "We have more than enough to spare without stretching our resources and there are only three of us on this ship. I doubt the Tuskens would take kindly to a breach in your agreement."

"As much as I would like to say no, you are right," she sighs. "Thank you."

Shmi follows him into the ship and into the kitchen, watching while he sets down his tea and goes searching for something to put water in for a minute before shaking herself and offering the one she brought to empty the vaporators. It holds far less water than he intends to give her, but the vaporators wouldn't yield much water in a day. Once it's full he returns to looking for another. He turns up a plain pitcher from under the sink and fills it as well.

"This is too much!"

"Please, Shmi, we could spare far more than this."

She subsides unhappily. In the lower level of the house she shows him how to empty the pitcher into the irrigation tank for the rows of crops against the walls. The rest of the water goes in the kitchen. Obi-Wan pours her some of his tea. The tea is gone by the time the others begin to wake. Cliegg looks at them curiously, but just starts cooking breakfast. Obi-Wan takes that as his cue to go back to the ship. Padmé is already in the kitchen frying the last of the nuna eggs from the preserver when he returns. The very last of their fresh greens are chopped up waiting to go in the pan as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**Past:**

With the added shouting to further split focus the remaining mercenaries were distracted just long enough for him to get the vibroblade in the next one's eye. A Duros stumbled back, hands up to ward him off. Obi-Wan didn't bother following when there were others more interested in attempting to kill him like Kleghoa was shouting for through the particle board. At this point half his apprenticeship involved being in combat situations where he couldn't use his saber for one reason or another—because he didn't have it or quarters were too tight or, with unusual frequency for someone who wasn't a shadow, because he couldn't have people knowing he was a Jedi—so he was more than practiced enough to keep up with the quality of opponents that currently faced him.

That wouldn't make it any easier to win a fight when he was so thoroughly outnumbered.

Before he worried much more about it the slaves he freed earlier were on them, ripping away weapons to arm themselves and fighting back. The additional force was enough to finish off the last of Kleghoa's mercenaries leaving only the Hutt himself raging ineffectually on his throne. With a flex of the force he ripped the handheld detonator away, then pulled it apart into all its components and dropped it down the rancor pit. With that threat visibly gone the slaves in the cages out front went wild too. In the distance the sound of fighting got louder. It was coming closer.

He still had a Hutt to worry about, though. Kleghoa was startlingly fast. As soon as one of the rebelling slaves got close enough he snatched their blaster and shoved them to the ground. He had short arms and like many Hutts was too fat to reach fully around his own body, but by how fast he moved that might not matter. Kleghoa was a lot fitter than the average Hutt. Now he was cornered without guards to save him as well. Obi-Wan thought some very rude words, but didn't say them out loud. Hanging from the high ceiling above were several cranes and other machinery for moving crates and cages around the market. Hanging from those were a variety of heavy chains. The nearest was directly above the crates stacked on the scaffolding behind Kleghoa's throne-replacement platform. He followed it with his eyes, trying to see where the controls were before Kleghoa actually started using the blaster for anything.

Underneath the surface level of Nar Shaddaa there wasn't enough light to see into the gloom. All he could make out was the vague shape of the machinery overhead. He wrenched at the shape that looked like the crane, forcing it over until it was over the audience area instead. Sparks and the screech of tearing metal lit up the darkness as it twisted farther than the joints could handle. As soon as he released it the metal arm slumped down, dropping the heavy chains for moving spice crates directly on top of Kleghoa. The sound it made as several hundred pounds of metal came down on his head made Obi-Wan cringe.

A small group came running into the audience area from the rest of the market, skidding to a halt in shock as they saw the trap door hanging open and Kleghoa crushed on his throne. They didn't get the chance to backtrack before blaster bolts caught them from all sides. Jango stepped out from behind some crates and walked around the whole in the ground to where Obi-Wan was standing, giving the spice laying around extra space. When he shoved the stolen blaster into a holster Obi-Wan could see his hands shaking worse than before.

"Didn't think Jetiise were supposed to be so violent."

There was the feeling of being tested again.

"They're slavers on Nar Shaddaa. It's less than they've done to others."

**Present:**

Owen sends him looks often enough that Obi-Wan isn't surprised to be approached. There's any dozen of things they could talk about, but the one Owen starts out with isn't a surprise either. It's a topic he's thought about plenty himself over the years.

"Why bother now? After leaving her as a slave twelve years ago?"

"I didn't actually know Anakin had been a slave until he told me himself several months later. Qui-Gon didn't consider it necessary to share and then he died." Obi-Wan tilts his head back to look up at Owen from the ramp where he is once again meditating in the shade of the Nabooan shuttle. "I didn't leave the ship at all because I was part of the royal party's security. What I knew about the situation in Mos Espa is only what I was told."

"But you didn't come back after you knew."

"Should I have brought a child along while starting a war with the Hutts that neither the Jedi nor the Republic are prepared to fight? Or are you suggesting I should have abandoned my duty to him instead?"

"You're a Jedi!"

"Hutt space is bigger than the Core and their influence doesn't end there," Obi-Wan says. "They are far more equipped for violence as well and far from the only slavers. If the Order fielded every available knight that would be ten thousand of us—which would leave the temples empty and our other duties undone—not all of whom are even proficient enough in combat to contribute anything but their presence, and that would not be enough. We don't have the manpower or the resources and the whole Republic would suffer the consequences if we tried."

"So you don't do anything?"

"So we have anti-slavery operations in Republic space where the Order has legal authority and occasionally a knight takes an opportunity if they can avoid retaliation."

"Can't you use your Jedi magic?"

"Mind tricking people isn't always possible, can do permanent damage, and to use them that way would be just another form of slavery. Those who attempt such things always go too far eventually, even with the best of intentions. And who should get to decide what people can think and do? Who would you trust with that power?"

Owen obviously isn't happy with that answer. Admittedly, Obi-Wan's own relationship with those facts was a contentious ones as a teenager—he's mostly grown out of his idealistic inclinations to act without considering the consequences since he was Anakin's age, but there are plenty of people to remind him he's lucky to have never started a war. Considering he is usually walking into them instead, he generally has more opportunity that the average knight to disrupt slave rings even if he's had to be more careful about it since taking on Anakin. Eventually Owen just slumps to sit on the edge of the ramp. Obi-Wan pats his shoulder.

"Even Jedi are people, we can only do our best."


	8. Chapter 8

** Past: **

There were about twelve med droids at the market belonging to various slavers, but only three of them had the programing and tools to remove a chip. Fortunately the vast majority of the newly freed slaves were held by other means—some of them by only the cages they were trapped in—and freeing them was easy, if time consuming. Between those hiding in a shelter a few levels down, their gracious hostess the night before, and the hundreds more in the market there are nearly fifteen hundred former slaves that had to be gotten off of Nar Shaddaa and to somewhere they can build new lives. The letter of his orders would have Obi-Wan taking the senate aides to Master Qui-Gon and returning to Coruscant. While Jango was capable, Obi-Wan wasn't convinced the Mandalorian was in any condition to be responsible for other people. The last time would have likely been Galidraan. The only way he could be satisfied he had done what he could would be to leave the aides on the ship and then go about the business of getting his hands on a ship to take them offworld.

A thought popped into his head. Obi-Wan swayed to a halt and crossed his arms while he thought it over.

"Someone coming?" Jango asked, shaky fingers tightened convulsively around the handle of his vibroblade.

"No," he shook his head once. "I think—" He turned to the group gathering at the edges of Kleghoa's audience plaza. "Do any of you happen to know where your captors left their ships? They are conveniently... unowned at the moment."

There are a couple of freighters that can house about a hundred in close quarters—more if they are willing to repurpose the cargo holds. From Nar Shaddaa to Chalacta is would be a four day trip. An uncomfortable four days to be sure, but they could make that distance without having to worry too strongly about supplies. Any other friendly Republic world where Obi-Wan was confident they could get help was too far to have that certainty. Mon Calamari would take in refugees—so long as those refugees were aquatic and could live on the ocean world—Corellia, Alderaan, Melidaan. But all of those worlds were too far. Outside the Republic he hoped Mandalore would be willing, but tensions were ever-rising in the sector and Satine might not be willing to accept the complication of Jango Fett's survival in the face of all else. Jango might not be willing to return yet, either. A moot point, though, until they made it to Chalacta and could afford to start being choosy about final destinations.

First things first, Obi-Wan led back the way they came that morning. With a knock on the door their hostess popped her head out. Brightly colored eyes widen when she saw the crowd, fingers clenching against the door frame. He tried to pre-empt her concerns by waving to one of the med droids he tugged forward.

"We have... acquired a couple of med droids capable of removing slave chips, so long as they aren't anywhere too exacting. We should be able get yours out now." When she just stared at him blankly he hastily tacked on— "If you have no objections."

** Present: **

Tatooine is a pretty place to visit, so long as you stay far away from the Hutts and don't stay for long. At least the sunrises and sunsets are beautiful. Still, a week on Tatooine is as long as the Lars homestead can afford to host them even with them taking care of their own needs and they need to get back to Naboo before Sabé tracks them down personally and makes them regret taking so long. A message from Quinlan arrived overnight, as well. Padmé finds him in the kitchen with the message paused, looking at Quinlan's tiny projection.

"Obi-Wan?"

He glances up, hand jerking over to the cup of cold tea on the counter.

"Padmé. Is Anakin up yet?"

"No, not yet. Is the kettle still warm?"

"Probably not."

Obi-Wan brushes a hand over his beard while he watches her check the temperature of the kettle with her hand. She places it back on the heating element and sets it to boil. When she turns to face him again he finally closes the message from Quinlan. She watches for a moment longer, waiting, then just asks the question on her mind when it's clear he won't offer whatever she's looking for.

"Anything I should be concerned about?" Padmé nods toward the inactive comm.

"Indirectly, I suppose." Obi-Wan takes a drink of his cold tea and tries not to grimace at the sediment settled on the bottom of the cup. "I'm to redirect to Kamino. This would not be a problem, except that we only have one ship and Kamino is in the opposite direction from Naboo."

"That's not a problem."

His eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline at that. She doesn't look at all like she sees any of the reasons why it is, in fact, a problem. Just expectant for an answer.

"Padmé, we are charged with your protection. I can't knowingly bring you into potentially dangerous situations just because you're alright with it."

"I can take care of myself."

She tilts her chin up challengingly and tosses her shoulders back. Instead of meeting her eyes he stares into his cup for a moment before downing it, sediment and all.

"That isn't the point. If you don't understand that, I can call Sabé and ask her to explain."

"That's not necessary."

"Padmé— Padmé, I am going to talk to her anyway. Especially before I would agree to taking you along into a potentially dangerous situation where I, alone, was asked to come. As part of your security team she needs to know and I think you are also forgetting I am accountable to the senate if anything happens to you. To the chancellor."


	9. Chapter 9

** Past: **

Diva Anyára—as Obi-Wan finally learned her name to be—was happy enough to offer the dubious cleanliness of her home for surgical use while she gathered the few belongings she wanted to keep, now that there's no threat to keep her on Nar Shaddaa. Only about forty of the fifteen hundred had chips to remove, so Jango would secure the ships and start sneaking people aboard to keep them from drawing too much attention to the lower levels while Obi-Wan located chips and monitored surgeries. Each one took an hour and a dose of the very limited sedatives in their possession—with a further three hours to wake up once the bacta patch went on the incision. The forty two people who needed the surgery couldn't all fit in the tiny apartment standing up, let alone lying down after surgery.

Fortunately their three med droids could get about fifteen chips removed in a day—a period in which Jango secured two barges capable of taking three hundred each given the food, water, and space aboard and made sure each ship had people aboard who could fly it. He also got his hands on more sedatives for the next day's surgeries. Occasionally he thought Jango was watching him, but any time he looked over he'd be watching their surroundings or rounding up another round of Freed to herd onto a ship. He dismissed it as wishful thinking.

The aides were getting antsy. Like most senate employees Obi-Wan had the displeasure of being acquainted with they cared more about why they hadn't been evacuated yet themselves than whether there were other things to be handled first, like locating their five still-missing coworkers. Master Qui-Gon might have made progress on that already. Not much would reassure them while they were stuck in Hutt Space.

Another day passed and more Freed escaped on repurposed freighters. Now that the majority were on their way and only a third of the original number still needed slave chips removed most of the worry had died down. Jango identified one last ship that suited their purposes and started securing it. Obi-Wan managed to nap for a couple hours between surgeries, but still had yet to reach out to Master Qui-Gon and find out if he made any progress in investigating. Halfway through the day the only one remaining not on the last ship yet were the few who still needed their chips removed and the senate aides. Jango agreed to sit and keep an eye on the last of them while Obi-Wan escorted the aides to the shuttle where Master Qui-Gon was currently waiting.

"Padawan," Master Qui-Gon greeted him as he slunk into the small hold. Master Qui-Gon looked over the bedraggled group behind him.

"Master. Have you found anything about the other five aides?"

"They weren't brought here by the Hutts, someone else captured them and sold them." Master Qui-Gon shifted his attention to address the aides instead. "Do you remember when you were separated?"

"They landed and just dragged them out, then we were being handed over to the Hutt."

Obi-Wan's shoulders tensed, then slumped forward as he sighed.

"On Nar Shaddaa or... elsewhere?"

** Present: **

He doesn't know what Padmé said to convince Sabé and Captain Panaka not to argue with going straight to Kamino, but they agree so he inputs the jump into their navcomp once their in orbit. With some careful calculation they can avoid the careful navigation of multiple jumps in the Rishi Maze altogether and do one jump from Rishi to Kamino. Unfortunately the satellite galaxy's drifting orbits mean those calculations can't start at all until they make it to Rishi where they can get the latest survey data and maybe they'll miss their window. Since Anakin is with them as well, Obi-Wan will ask him for help—force knows Anakin is much faster at astronavigation than he is and enjoys it far more.

The trip to Rishi is two days. Obi-Wan spends the entire time reminding Anakin he doesn't know why he's been redirected—that it may have nothing at all to do with the investigation. It's old after the first time. They already talked about it when discussing their change of plans and have no new information, Obi-Wan even informed them that given the circumstances he suspects it may be not be official business but personal. As usual for Anakin he is of the belief that everyone's personal business is his business—provided he cares to ask—so Obi-Wan spends a good portion of their trip fending him off. It's tiring enough he almost considers doing the calculations himself when they drop out of hyperspace at the Rishi beacon. Despite that he calls Anakin into the cockpit with him when the most recent maps start transmitting from the beacon.

"What's going on?" Anakin asks.

"We're receiving the most recent maps of the Rishi Maze. Kamino is still on these maps according to Quinlan." The transmission finishes and Obi-Wan gestures to the co-pilot's seat. "Would you mind calculating our route?"

For once Anakin doesn't argue with him, though he does make a face in Obi-Wan's direction. He doesn't take long with the calculations and they're back on their way shortly after. Anakin did secure them a route that would only take one jump, so it will be about six hours to Kamino. As they get closer to their destination Anakin's attention is dragged away into the middle distance and his presence vibrates in the force, something years of exposure to has taught Obi-Wan that the force is projecting something very strongly. His own talents with the unifying force are in agreement—the upcoming meeting is perhaps the most important meeting Obi-Wan will ever have. Quinlan is waiting for them on the landing platform when they arrive even though it's pouring rain in the middle of the local night cycle.


	10. Chapter 10

**Past:**

"You're going to have to go without me," Obi-Wan told Jango back at Diva's apartment.

"Nayc."

"Jango, I can't keep these people here while I keep investigating."

"Don't." Jango finally looked up from his halting weapons maintenance to give him a frustrated look. "Can get another ship."

Jango picked up some clothes and basic armor at some point that fit him better and made him look less like an escaped slave. With the serrated vibroblade he took at the market and a blaster he got at some point securing the ships no one looked twice at him anymore, but Obi-Wan—even with his spare robes from the shuttle—stood out on the slaver moon. For one thing he didn't have lightsaber-shaped pockets to hide his saber in like Quinlan did.

Appearances were only the smaller part of the problem though—almost a week since he'd last been dosed with spice and it was hitting Jango hard. Obi-Wan couldn't speak to the times one or the other of them was off doing something, but he could see the shakes getting worse and the layer of sweat Jango had to wipe off no matter how much or how little he'd been doing. On at least one occasion Jango spent nearly an hour being sick in the tiny fresher. It made him feel useless not to be able to help, but the most Obi-Wan knew about healing was force trances and Jango felt almost completely force null. He could filter intoxicants out of his own system just fine, but wasn't sure he could do it for someone whose baseline was completely unknown to him. Jango would have to go through spice withdrawal the hard way and that would take time Obi-Wan wouldn't be able to spend making sure he didn't hurt himself if any of his symptoms escalated. At least with Diva already gone and well on her way to Chalacta by now they could keep using her apartment.

"Are you going to be able to? You're going to get worse before your symptoms clear up and I won't be around to help you if I'm investigating."

Obi-Wan crossed his arms and planted his feet, trying to make it clear how serious he was. By the way Jango scoffed he doubted he was successful. Jango's hand slammed down hard on the rickety table as he levered himself upright, making the whole thing creak and sway alarmingly. He almost thought it would give way and Jango would end up on the floor. For a moment he's caught in the absolute certainty that Jango would get mad if he tried to help, then the moment passed and neither Jango nor the table collapsed.

"Don't need a minder," Jango bit out.

"Just—" Obi-Wan sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, making a face at how greasy and long it was getting. "You should stay here for a couple days to rest. I'll need at least that long to get information anyway."

After a brief stare down Jango nodded sharply and staggered back to the sleeping pallet that used to be Diva's.

**Present:**

Quinlan waves off Anakin and Padmé with just enough good cheer not to be rude, but Obi-Wan has known him since they were new padawans. Even without a force bond he would know something has his friend off balance—his eyes are just a little too wide, his wide gestures as he talks too stiff. Not to mention Quinlan hates waiting in the rain if he doesn't have to. Something is very wrong for Quinlan to be so insistent on talking to him before they enter the facility. They get into the tiny berth where Obi-Wan has been sleeping and Quinlan turns on an anti-surveillance noise generator.

"Quinlan, what's going on?"

"I was following a Mandalorian, Obi, can't you guess?" Quinlan's voice goes higher with hysteria and he has to take a minute to breath through his rising panic. "I've got good news, weird news, and bad news."

"Weird news?" he asks, mostly baffled.

"Yeah, congratulations! It's a boy. Five million of them."

"What are you—?"

"Good news: I found your husband. Bad news: the mind healers pulled some really nasty Sith mind tricks out of his head and he's been used as the template for a clone army supposedly commissioned by a Jedi Sifo-Dyas. Weird news: you're a dad, I guess."

"At least I'm not the only one who got a child while we were apart," Obi-Wan replies faintly. "Mhi ba'juri verde."

"Always thought the point was to do that bit together, but what do I know."

Quinlan shoves him lightly and his knees immediately give out and he flops onto the bunk. Obi-Wan has been torn for a decade between the voice of practicality in the back of his mind saying Jango has been missing for years and the lingering hope that he would know if his riduur was dead. He isn't sure where Sith mind control and cloned armies fall on a scale of things he should have expected to things he really couldn't have.

"The Sith?"

"It's a good thing you brought Amidala—I have a few questions to ask her about why she was so certain Dooku was trying to have her killed."

For once he's too shocked to say anything, just searches Quinlan's face for confirmation and gets a grim nod. Obi-Wan never knew his grandmaster very well—it was upsetting that the man left the Order claiming grief over Qui-Gon's death as his reason and abandoned Obi-Wan altogether, but not entirely a surprise—but the man is well-respected as a former Master Jedi. For him to be behind Jango's disappearance means he fell months before that at the very latest and used Qui-Gon's death as a convenient excuse. The pair of them had a far more contentious relationship than Dooku has with any of his other former padawans with the potential exception of Komari Vosa, whose gleeful violence and impetuousness mixed poorly with Dooku's own pride right up until she snuck along on a mission against the Bando Gora and disappeared. With this additional knowledge he can't help but doubt everything he thought he knew about the man.


End file.
